This afternoon, one of my sprout’s fathers picked her up. As luck would have it, I hadn’t met him before. Bus time is busy and we didn’t have time for a lengthy conversation.
“Are you her teacher?” he asked me.
“Yes, I am,” I replied.
“Ah, thank you for your hard work. Good night sir,” he said as he walked off holding his daughter’s hand.
Sir? Excuse me? At what point did I become a sir? In all my years of teaching, I’ve never been referred to as a sir. To be clear, I don’t think I’m any older than this parent. I’ve always associated ‘sir’ with a wiser more seasoned person… It’s definitely a term of respect and I suppose this dad was just offering his admiration in that small moment we shared together.
I suppose I am a sir and I guess, in my role, I’m all right with that.
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